


maybe this time (i'll fit)

by ruluan



Category: Hockey RPF, halifax mooseheads - Fandom
Genre: Gen, and such, general suckiness, not-true ness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruluan/pseuds/ruluan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stefan Fournier has tried on many pairs of shoes. None of them fit. Except one.</p><p>That was a metaphor. There are no shoes in this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe this time (i'll fit)

**Author's Note:**

> If you got here by googling your name, you're the best but please leave and never come back.
> 
> If you don't know anything about Stefan Fournier, that's okay. He doesn't even have a Wikipedia page. It's hard. Click [here](http://www.hockeydb.com/ihdb/stats/pdisplay.php?pid=115921) for his stats/team history, [here](https://twitter.com/Sfournier74) for his twitter, [here](http://www.hockeyfights.com/players/12958) for his hockeyfights page, and [here](http://thechronicleherald.ca/sports/1130568-goal-is-clear-for-mooseheads-vets) for a general gist of him as a person. The first is most important to understand this. He is co-captain with Trey Lewis of the [Halifax Mooseheads](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halifax_Mooseheads), a junior league team in the QMJHL, who just won the Memorial Cup, aka the Stanley Cup of the CHL. 
> 
> He is also my heart, my soul, and my everything. This is his last year playing for the junior leagues, and he's finally won the Memorial Cup after being with a couple of teams that he couldn't really thrive in. This is largely inspired by his tweet:
> 
>  
> 
> and [this](http://metronews.ca/sports/620523/stefan-fournier-finally-finds-his-place-with-mooseheads/) article, in which he mentions, "I’ll be honest with you, I always felt like maybe I ended up on the raw end. I ended up maybe where I wasn’t the right fit," but that in Halifax, "I truly believe that this is the perfect fit. Even if I am 20 and it’s my last year, I am in the right spot at the right time.”
> 
> Unbeta'd. Just a cryfest at how awesome Stefan Fournier is. In a serious manner. Very much not Stefan Fournier's real thoughts. Stefan Fournier.

Stefan Fournier is 18.

He loves hockey.

He doesn’t love his team.

He likes the guys well enough, but they lack a connection, and he is not an important component. It’s his fault, too. Maybe he just misses home (misses Quebec, would always pick Quebec over this weak, boring Bathurst), or maybe he’s trying to prove the NHL right, that he’s not worthy of any team. Maybe both. 

Either way, he could do better. He could do so much better.

But the ice doesn’t rile him up anymore. 

It shows.

\--

He plays for the Maineiacs.

He expects little. He just works hard, attempts to do what he’s supposed to do: score goals. He’s still not good; it’s not like he regularly sends the puck home or anything. But he’s not afraid to throw punches on the ice—so he does what he can for the team, even though they don’t click. Even though he doesn’t fit.

He wouldn’t say he’s unhappy. Sure, it’s everyone’s dream to be drafted. To play for the NHL. To win. He still has three years for those things, though, and he might as well do his best in the place where he’s at instead of letting his head drift elsewhere. After all, his brother will be playing in the QMJHL next year, maybe even for the same team. He makes subtle—his own “not very” brand of subtle—hints at the GM, because his brother is better than him. Dillon is going places, he knows.

And maybe, just maybe, Dillon’s the piece that Stefan needs for the Lewiston Maineiacs to be where he belongs.

\--

When the Maineiacs break up, he goes to the Victoriaville Tigres.

He still does not expect much. He’s learned to focus game by game instead of worrying about the future, and doesn't set objectives for how many goals he should make. After all, his role in the game isn’t made for beautiful plays; it’s made for the desperate, gritty goals. So he just lets his actions flow—including his fists—and sometimes, he scores more. He’s also in the box more. Some games are hat trick games; others are penalty games. 

It’s better, but he knows he still hasn’t found his place.

At this point, he doesn’t know if he ever will.

\--

It takes four years, but Stefan Fournier loves his team.

In Halifax, he’s willing to skate for them, score for them, scream for them, fight for them. He would lead for them.

He never thought he’d bring more than grit to a game, accompanied by an infrequent goal, but for some reason, he knows where his teammates will send the puck. He’s determined to perfect finding the right spot, and before he knows it he’s scored more goals than ever before—better goals. It’s not just him, MacAulay, and Andrews, though. It’s not even just the shining rookies. MacKinnon, Drouin, Fucale—they are the most amazing 17-year-olds he has ever met. But no, he thinks this team needs everyone to succeed. Coach says he deserves to be signed, but he knows he’d be nothing without these people. If MacAulay wasn’t by his side, if Fucale wasn’t in the net, if Lewis wasn’t balancing out his leadership, he knows he would be back where he started: floundering with a team that didn’t suit him.

He drops his gloves the most for them. It kind of comes with his role in the game, but this time, he doesn’t do it for strategy or anything sensible like that. It’s for his role as leader, to protect his own. He’s not particularly talented, but this is one thing he can do for the ones who have done so much for him. He can take a penalty for MacKinnon’s honor, simply because the kid’s got so much more than he does. He considers it his duty, one he performs gladly. 

Moreover, he kisses them. On the cheek, on the hand, on the mouth. This isn’t a duty, but a desire to demonstrate his affection. They are his brothers, his family, his children. He doesn’t want to let go.

This is the team that makes him want to succeed. That helps him succeed. This kind of chemistry, this ease on ice that comes with a mental bond and results in no-look drop passes, is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. He will never be on the same team as every single one of these boys—men—ever again. He thinks he might have peaked too early; this is the best year of this life. Nevertheless, he’ll bleed red and green and white and black for as long as he remembers the day he held the Memorial Cup in his hands, surrounded by the teammates who understood him the best in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> uuUUUUUUuuughhhHhhHHHhhhhhHHHH this kind of sucks I just want everyone to know how great this dude is [like really](http://metronews.ca/news/halifax/672429/pucker-up-halifax-mooseheads-proving-a-little-affection-can-go-along-way/) but whatever no one cares )'''''''''''':


End file.
